


in the low lamp light i was free

by oopsabird



Category: DC Extended Universe, Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Post-Wonder Woman (2017), Romantic Fluff, Sameer is a good boyfriend, Tenderness, sober Charlie, what a lovely tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25604089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oopsabird/pseuds/oopsabird
Summary: my babe would never fret none,about what my hands and my body done,if the Lord don't forgive me,i'd still have my baby and my babe would have mePeace doesn’t always mean all of the troubles go away. Sometimes, it just means having someone there to hold onto in the dark.
Relationships: Charlie/Sameer (Wonder Woman)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 9





	in the low lamp light i was free

**Author's Note:**

> if you’re wondering just how many of these “comfort after a nightmare” fics I’m gonna write, the answer is “yes”.
> 
> just rated T for a lil speck of subtle innuendo and also Charlie’s foul-mouthed tendencies. there’s a single-line reference to past alcoholism.
> 
> title and summary from lyrics of Work Song because I’ve been on a Hozier binge lately and his discography has SamiCharlie vibes all over the damn place. hell yeah!
> 
> do my son a favour and [imagine Charlie with any other hair than that godawful wig](https://m.imdb.com/name/nm0001971/mediaviewer/rm4200833024) please [god knows I do constantly](https://oopsabird.tumblr.com/post/189032226290/i-want-you-all-to-know-im-still-incredibly)

_Hurry- hurry, gotta warn them about the gas-_

_Feet pounding across the mud- air is foggy- can’t see where he’s going-_

_Gas-_

_Voice is stuck in his throat- he can’t scream-_

_Gas-_

_He is trying to shout, he can’t breathe-_

_Gotta warn them-_

_Can’t breathe-_

_Gas-_

_Run, run faster-_

_GO-_

“-AAAH!” Charlie’s scream is still fading in his own ears as he bolts upright, opening his eyes into darkness.

Fuck. He- where is he? What time is it? What-

“...Charlie?”

That familiar soft murmur, from the other half of the bed, cuts easily through the overwhelming sounds of his thundering heart and heaving shallow gasps for air. Or at least, it does when coupled with the gentle touch of a hand upon his arm, shifting up from where it has just been splayed across his stomach. Warm against his skin. Reassuring.

This touch is a comforting contrast to the drafty air, which tickles across his bare back and chest above the tangled blankets, catching on the cold sweat and making him shiver. This touch is a grounding point, as he struggles to get oxygen into his lungs. This touch, it belongs to a person-

This touch is Sameer.

Already the pounding in his ears begins to fade away and let him hear the late night city quiet, as time and place come back to him now. Right. He is in Paris. The war is long over. He is home in his flat. Safe in his bed. Their bed. With Sami.

“ _Mi amor_? ” Sami’s voice has taken on a slightly more anxious note.

Shit. Charlie swallows, thickly. “Sorry-” he croaks, blindly covering Sameer’s hand with his own and fighting harder for a proper, steady breath. He wishes his hand wasn’t shaking quite so obviously and intensely, but then again his whole body is doing that really, so it’s a vain hope if ever there was one. “Sorry. ‘m alright love... was just-”

“The usual?” Sami finishes for him, shuffling to sit up a fraction more and moving his palm away to become a grounding weight at the centre of Charlie’s back. The other hand rubs at his own sleepy eyes as he peers at Charlie through the dark, clearly trying to assess the situation.

Charlie nods, swallowing again around the persistent lump in his throat. “Yeah. Yeah.”

With his eyes starting to adjust to the darkness, glancing over he can now more clearly make out Sami’s shape beside him, bare-chested and made modest by a tangle of blankets and sheets piled over his lower half. The whole of him is still a bit messily soft-edged, face squinting and curly hair intensively rumpled by sleep (and by the fantastic things they did together in this bed before sleeping).

Sami’s free hand, the one not currently rubbing soothing circles over Charlie’s spine, now rests loosely atop the blankets in his own lap — on instinct Charlie reaches out to grab it, feeling instantly more anchored to the here and now by the familiar sensation of Sameer’s fingers wrapping around his own and squeezing tight.

“I am right here,” murmurs Sami, shifting a little closer. Trying to meet his eyes in the dark, as the other hand slides up to cradle the nape of Charlie’s neck. “I am here with you,  _matraba_. _Por favor_ , what can I do to help?”

Charlie bites his lip and draws in a long, slow shaky breath, then lets it out even slower. Leans into Sami’s touch, the warm steady palm and the thumb rubbing circles over chilled skin at the nape of his neck.

There is a strong old panicked instinct screaming in the back of his mind to say  _Nothing!_ , to pretend and push away in bitter self-defence. But, he firmly makes himself remember, it does not have to be like that anymore. Hasn’t been like that for a long time. Years. Sami, as ever, is here to help. Sami would never judge or degrade him, or be unkind. Sami just wants to take care of him. Sami  _always_ takes care of him, especially on nights like these. Better than the bottle ever could.

So Charlie swallows, clearing his throat, and musters up some words. “Just.... just stay close like this for a while, yeah? Hold onto me, while I get my bearings. That’s all I need tonight,  _leannan._...Please.” This is not one of the bad nights, the truly bad ones where guilt and grief try to swallow him up whole and he drowns in the blood on his hands. The details of this simple nightmare are already fading away.

“Okay.” Sami slides his arm down around Charlie’s lower back to hug him close and shuffles up against his side, leaning in to tip his head onto Charlie’s shoulder. “I am right here  _albi_ , promise. What’ver you need...” There’s a slightly sleepy edge to the words, but Charlie can hear that they are said sincerely, soft with affection yet solid in conviction.

Slipping his own arm around Sami’s shoulders, Charlie takes a deep breath. Lets it out slow, then another. Just as practiced, simple rhythms. He presses his face into the mop of soft curls that covers the head resting upon his shoulder. Closes his eyes, and just keeps breathing, inhaling the familiar scents of Sami’s sweat and soap and cologne and faded hair pomade, this and all the other physical cues which help remind him where and when he is, who is in his arms.

The edges of Sami’s beard scratching gently at his bare shoulder.

The steady soothing rhythm of Sami’s thumb rubbing circles over his ribs.

Sami’s own broad sturdy shoulders rising and falling steadily beneath Charlie’s embrace with each of his quiet measured breaths.

The blessed solid warmth of him all pressed in along Charlie’s side.

The reassuring grip that holds his other hand.

This, this is what Charlie needs. He knows for certain when and where he is now, with Sami to anchor him this way. It’s a simple logic test, really. The man he was when he went away to war was never lucky enough to get to be close to Sami quite like this, to hold him in this way, to be a lover as well as a friend — only ever lucky enough to simply know this wonderful man, and honoured to fight by his side.

So, if they are together in this way, then the war must be over. And that means the people Charlie loves are safe, not in danger. The threats from his dreams are all gone, in the past. And so maybe, just maybe, they are going to be alright.

Suddenly, a soft snoring noise starts up from the head on his shoulder, drawing him from his thoughts.

He can’t help the amused little smile that quirks at the corner of his lips. “Ah, guess someone’s still a wee bit tired from our fun earlier, eh?” The sigh that comes with the words is fond and teasing, as he slides his hand further up Sami’s back to begin gently carding through soft disheveled curls.

The snoring cuts off, and Sami hums faintly and nestles a little deeper into the embrace, only holding him tighter. “That is your own doing, darling...”

Charlie chuckles. Cheeky bastard. Clingy and cuddly, too. Not that he would ever truly complain, of course. Sami’s bright, lively presence in his dreary life has brought so much happiness, even in the form of small sparks of laughter just like that. God, he’s so blessed to have this, to have Sami here with him in this way. Sharing a bed, sharing themselves, sharing a life together in this city where they don’t have to live in fear. It is so much more than he once could have ever dreamed. More than he could ever deserve.

Moving slow, he shifts them back to lie against the pillows together, sliding their joined hands up from his lap to rest upon his own stomach and settling in. Sami hums again, shuffles and rolls over slightly to press his chest along Charlie’s side, tangling their feet and legs together and tucking his face into the side of Charlie’s neck with a contented sigh.

Charlie isn’t sure why Sami likes cuddling up to him so much, when he’s practically all elbows and knees and skin and bone. Can’t be anywhere near as comfortable as his partner makes it look, surely. But he is glad that it happens, so very glad. When Sami holds him like this, he feels safe enough that maybe the ghosts can’t get him. When Sami holds him like this, it feels like home.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, lips pressed to the top of Sami’s head. Watching their entangled hands in the low light. “For bein’ here. Dunno what I’d do without you, sunshine.”

Nearly asleep, Sami just squeezes him a little tighter, nuzzling at the corner of his jaw. “ _Je t’aime..._ ” he mumbles, syllables slurred together and trailing away.

“Aye,” Charlie whispers, closing his eyes. Feeling their hearts beat together, his fingers tracing through Sami’s hair again and again. Rhythms of a song shared by two. “Love you too.”

Sleep creeps back in again easy within moments, soft and dark. This time, without any dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this soft and sappy thing! I think google translate should cover _most_ of the non-English endearments, but feel free to ask me if it botches any of them lol (matraba is مطربة)
> 
> I have no idea what month it is. March 328th? comments and kudos from you lovely people make the days pass faster! maybe someday we’ll even reach the release date for WW84... in the meantime I can be found most often yelling on twitter these days, having political opinions or live-tweeting Lord of the Rings or whatever. I’m also on tumblr, sometimes. both sites @oopsabird. stay safe out there!


End file.
